


Guilty as Charged

by pleasehelpmeimstuckinthefandoms



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hiding in Plain Sight, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I hope you enjoy this, I'm Bad At Tagging, Napoleon is a Little Shit, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Romance, Secret Identity, Secret Marriage, Secrets, Sweet, henry cavill is a snack and nobody can change my mind, hes also a darling and i love him, i cant think of anything else to tag, i really wanted to write something and this came up, i wish it were real, information, its v cute, neglecting to share important information, so is napoleon, your son is a cutie pie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2020-10-11 02:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20538869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasehelpmeimstuckinthefandoms/pseuds/pleasehelpmeimstuckinthefandoms
Summary: Their mission was simple: shadow their pregnant target for a week and gain information on your husband through various methods that wouldn’t cause any direct contact between any of the members of U.N.C.L.E, yourself or your child.Napoleon was always one to find a loophole.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own The Man from U.N.C.L.E: all credits go to appropriate owners and creators. I take no responsibility or ownership. Only of my story and plot do I take credit for.
> 
> ||Please do not re-post or plagiarize my work on any other platforms.||

(..)

Illya noticed Napoleon eyeing off the woman they’d been assigned to watch, for the past three days.

Of course, if the American agent was curious about the details and planning of their previous missions, Illya would see nothing wrong with his sudden interest in their target- but Napoleon was never interested in their missions and this newfound intrigue made the Russian spy suspicious. 

Illya knew that _ look _ and it brought nothing but trouble.

Napoleon’s eyes followed you across the lobby of the hotel with no break or switch in his gaze.

The American knew the rules of fraternizing with any women that were directly involved in their cases- so he found a loophole and went for women that were not central to the mission. It didn’t stop him from flirting with their marks but it definitely minimized the failure rate of their cases. Napoleon had a type and pregnant women with six-year-old sons were _ not _his usual tumbler of scotch.

He wasn’t a wholesome _ family _ man, he was a man _ whore_.

So, what did Napoleon find so appealing about their mark that could potentially ruin the entire mission and they would ultimately learn nothing, _ again?_

Illya was _ going _to find out.

Napoleon ripped his gaze from you and set his newspaper on the coffee table, exhaling almost arrogantly as he stood up and buttoned his tailored jacket, “see you later, Peril.” With that, he walked toward the elevator, entered and clicked one of the buttons to his desired floor.

The target bustled for the elevator, sleeping son in your arms and Napoleon thrust his hand between the closing doors and they slowly retracted back into their slots just in time for you to slip through.

The doors shut with Napoleon accepting your gratitude with a charming smile as you ran your fingers through your son’s curly, dark hair. Your wedding and engagement rings glittered in the sunlight.

Illya sprung into action, memorizing the floor number Napoleon had pressed before throwing his magazine on the coffee table and alerted Gaby through his earpiece before entering the stairwell.

It took three minutes for Illya to reach the floor and he shouldered the stairwell door open, “what room is she in?” He murmured quietly, lips barely moving as to not attract attention from a passing couple.

_ “Room 386. What does he think he is doing?” _ Gaby’s exasperated voice filtered through the earpiece and Illya silently shared her sentiments.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out and perform castration if Cowboy screws up mission.” Illya threatened loudly as the couple moved out of sight and he hoped Napoleon was still listening.

_ “Arriving at the door now.” _Gaby’s voice was significantly lower, as not to attract the attention of the target or Napoleon.

“Wait for me.” Illya instructed, turning the bend to see the room he was searching for and Gaby in front of it.

“What’s the plan?” Gaby whispered, flicking her gaze between the door and Illya.

“I'm thinking, give me minute.” Illya murmured back, eyes glaring holes into the offending door.

“What if he’s not in there?” Illya looked at Gaby with a facetious expression that the German mechanic sighed and gestured lamely, “I know how stupid it sounds but the thought popped in my head and I had to say it.” Gaby retorted before sighing, “we need to think of something, we can’t just barge in without ruining the mission.”

Illya’s jaw clenched, “I know. I’m not stupid like Cowboy.”

The door was wrenched open and there stood a fully clothed, unimpressed and untousled Napoleon, “I’ll have you know I’m not stupid, Peril and rather disturbed that you would actively consider performing such a procedure on me.” Napoleon’s features contorted into a smirk, “you seem rather. . . fixated on my genitals, comrade but I’m sorry, I just don’t swing that way.” 

Gaby barely restrained Illya from choking their problematic friend, “what are you doing?” Gaby hissed, “this is an intel operation, not another one of your conquests!”

Napoleon looked back into the room, as if in hard contemplation before sighing, “we need information on the target’s husband. Well, I know who it is.” The sudden confession made Illya’s and Gaby’s eyes pop wide open, “you may come in, but I recommend keeping our conversation quiet, there is a sleeping child after all,” Napoleon backed into the room, allowing his teammates into the hotel room before stopping and looking to Illya with an evil smirk, “and you are to keep your hands to yourself, mister.” 

Illya stormed past Gaby, fully intending to break Napoleon in half when a gentle voice stopped him in his tracks, “Napoleon? Is everything alright?” 

Illya turned to see you stepping out of the double doors leading to the bedroom and he could see your son curled up on the bed, sound asleep under a thick blanket. You were bare-footed, your jacket and cap missing and your hair was loose, free of the pins and clips that was holding it in place, earlier. 

“Please allow me to introduce my colleagues, this is Illya Kuryakin and Gaby Teller.” Napoleon gestured to each member respectively.

You nodded kindly, a sweet smile curling your lips, “a pleasure. My name is-”

“Georgina Hope. You were receptionist for Anavest Clinic until your son was born and you’ve been a housewife ever since. We’ve been monitoring you as we have reliable intelligence that your husband has crucial information and think he can help us.” 

“I think what Peril is saying that your husband would know about the tensions in Istanbul.” Illya glared at Napoleon with a look of absolute betrayal. Illya was about to explode at Napoleon in a Russian tirade but the American powered through, “but considering that our intel doesn’t even have your real name on file, I fail to see how they could have the correct information on your husband.” Napoleon looked exaggeratedly dubious, “I mean, what else could they be wrong about?”

Confused silence filled the room and all thought of Napoleon’s supposed betrayal flew out the window as Gaby stuttered, “w-what are you talking about, Solo?”

Napoleon looked to you with a soft smile and nodded for you take over. You took a breath before speaking, “my real name is Y/N L/N and I’m actually a retired agent for the CIA.” You shrug your shoulders as Illya and Gaby listen to you, shocked, “your original objective is ongoing but your last mission in Ankara had your enemies suspicious and were closing in on you, so I fed your superiors false information to get them off your tail and I’ve been watching your real target all along while you’ve been observing me.” You paused in your explanation to point to the overflowing files that were on the coffee table in the living room, “everything you need is in that dossier just there.” 

Silence filled the room once more until Illya broke it this time, “even if I was willing to believe all this, it does not explain why a retired agent knows our mission-”

“-or why Napoleon is here with you.” Gaby finished.

“I only knew as much as my husband at the time.” Y/N answered which only served to confuse the two even more.

“Well,” Napoleon added, looking to the both of them, “Y/N may have skipped over a little detail or two. It’s a little hard habit to break, especially in the CIA. But some of her backstory is factual, Y/N is married and she was working until the birth of her first child but L/N is her maiden name, not her married name.”

“What is her married name, then?” Gaby asked, dark brows pulling together, finding herself invested in the current events unfolding. 

“Peril, Gaby, I’d like you to officially meet Y/N Solo, my wife.”


	2. Chapter 2

(..)

The dark Istanbul night reflected in the floor-to-ceiling windows of the apartment, the twinkling lights of the bustling city were beautiful but nobody was paying attention to the breathtaking view.

Gaby’s eyes bugged out of her head with Napoleon’s confession and she had to steady herself on Illya to keep from falling while the Russian assassin looked between yourself and Napoleon, a deep frown creasing his brows, “I want proof.” Was all he said, voice hard and stature tense.

“We thought you might.” Napoleon slipped away from you and moved to the coffee table, picked up a discarded file and passed it to Illya. “All the proof you’ll need is here. I hope it’s satisfactory for you.” Your husband remarked sarcastically before coming back to stand next to you, looking over you to make sure you were okay. 

Napoleon placed one hand on the small of your back and his other hand slipped over your swollen belly as he leaned in to kiss your cheek lovingly. 

You smiled happily, leaning into his touch and your hand caressed his sharp jaw.

Illya opened the file, looking through all the documents. “And what of all the women you’ve been with on our missions?” he asked, eyes never leaving the documents as Gaby lifted her brows questioningly, arms crossing over her chest as she looked between the two of you.

“As I said, I’m a CIA agent. I know how to keep my identity a secret and operate undercover without drawing attention to myself. I was the woman he was with all those times, until, well, recently,” you explained, your hand sliding over Napoleon’s on your pregnant belly, “didn’t you notice that he hasn’t been “fooling around” lately?” You asked and both Gaby and Illya looked to each other before sighing collectively.

“I just thought he’d run out of performance enhancing pills.” Illya answered sarcastically, fixing Napoleon with a dry look.

Napoleon’s sculpted jaw twitched and you placed your hand against his chest to stop him from moving forward and essentially picking a fight with the KGB spy and continued with your explanation as Napoleon, getting the hint, paused in his advance and rubbed your belly, eyes never leaving his Russian nemesis, who smirked victoriously before turning back to the file, “because I’m with child, I haven’t been able to go undercover and travelling isn’t safe for the baby, not at this stage.” Napoleon sighed, his expression turning to one of shame.

“I didn’t want to bring attention to Y/N, a pregnant woman is more noticeable- especially when trying to remain discreet with a child in tow, but I needed to know what was going on without jeopardizing this case. I called in Y/N because I thought something was wrong after our last mission and attempting surveillance or reconnaissance could have the enemy make us and I didn’t want to alarm either of you- but she’s the only person I trust.” Napoleon flicked his gaze between Gaby and Illya before continuing, “as it turns out, I was right.” Napoleon brought you closer and it was only now that Gaby noticed the gold wedding band on his finger. “I’m sorry, my darling. I didn’t want to bring you into this or make you travel. Not with the kids and  _ especially  _ not at such a crucial time.” His hand slipped across your swollen belly, rubbing gently as if to let your unborn child know that their father was here.

You touched his cheek and he sighed sadly, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch, “I’m not angry that you called me. We both know I was becoming restless at home and I wanted an adventure. This is a good thing. Good for the baby and Isaac too, to be in the company of their father.” Napoleon smiled warmly, resting his forehead against yours.

“Everything checks out. Nothing doctored or illegitimate.” Illya announced, closing the file with an air of finality. “Why didn’t you tell us about this?” Gaby took the file from him to have a look at it for herself.

Napoleon looked to you and to the sleeping boy inside, “well, to be completely honest- I wasn’t sure I could trust either of you. They’re my family above all else, I care about them more than any mission.” He finished his explanation before helping you to the couch, fluffling a pillow behind your back for extra support and comfort as you sat, exhaling in relief.

Illya and Gaby nodded, knowing they would do the same if the tables were turned, Illya took a breath to speak but was cut short when a small voice from the bedroom spoke, “Daddy?”

Napoleon’s smile widened into one akin of pure joy, “excuse me for a moment, Peril.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead as he passed you and walked around the couch before sinking to his knees in the middle of the hotel room. “Hey, little man.” Isaac gasped in childlike wonder and bounded off the bed and made a beeline for his father.  Napoleon bundled him in his arms and pressed a barrage of kisses to his son’s pink, chubby cheeks. You chuckled happily, tears collecting in the corners of your eyes as you watched the two reunite, “oh, my sweet boy, my Isaac.”

It had been too long and the look on Napoleon’s face said as much.

“I missed you, Daddy.” Isaac murmured, sniffling gently as his little hands cupped his father’s cheeks. 

“I missed you too, Isaac. God, I missed you so much.” Napoleon pressed another kiss to his cheek before holding him close. 

Isaac wrapped his arms around his father's large shoulders before finally noticing the two strangers staring at him. Almost instantly, Isaac’s timid nature took full force and he hid his face in Napoleon’s shoulder, whispering something indecipherable in his ear. Napoleon chuckled sympathetically, “oh, Isaac. It’s okay. They’re on my team. They’re very nice people.”

Ilya softened slightly at Isaac’s apprehension and the boy whispered once more into his father’s ear before staring at Illya and Napoleon nodded, “yes, son. He does look like a big scary giant, doesn’t he? Maybe he should smile more often.” Napoleon turned to look at Illya with his signature cocky grin and Illya’s scowl deepened until Isaac nestled deeper into his father’s shoulder. 

Illya clenched his jaw, struggling to keep his features neutral. He must have done something right because Isaac peeked his head from Napoleon’s neck and offered Illya a shy smile. Illya reciprocated with a small smile of his own.

The kid _w_ _ as  _ cute, even though he looked like a carbon copy of his father- he seemed to have your nature. Illya was glad for that. He didn’t know how he’d cope with two Napoleon Solo’s. 

He’d defect back to Russia.

Gaby pulled out a black and white photo of the couple on their wedding day, you both looked so young. Your dress was stunning and Napoleon looked dashing in his uniform. Turning the photo around, the date was inscribed in the yellowing corner: _ Italy- 3rd of March, 1953. _

It was 1964 now.

You were in your twenties when you married, he was at the peak of his burglarizing career. You were probably already in the CIA, otherwise what would you be doing in Italy?

Lifting her gaze, Gaby stared at Napoleon with kind eyes as he lavished attention on his young son and listened to his son’s stories of Istanbul and the adventures he and his mother had been on. The smile on her teammates face was the most genuine she had ever seen him. 

He looked… like a father and it suited him _ well _ .

“It must have been torture, to be this close to your wife and children without being able to contact them.” She murmured softly and Napoleon’s smile waned slightly, turning his attention to Gaby.

“You have no idea.” Napoleon mused, “I was lucky that Y/N was able to visit me, however disguised. But with the reputation Y/N had helped me forge, holding my son in my arms would seem out of place, considering the Napoleon Solo everyone knows, is rather-“ he paused mid-sentence to look down to his son who stared right back at him with the same crystal blue eyes, invested in his Daddy’s story, and scoured his brain for the right adjective, “-adventurous.”

“Is an understatement.” Illya commented and Napoleon gave him a dirty look before rising from his knees and taking a seat on the couch next to you, still cuddling his son to his thick, muscled chest.

“Please, sit.” You gestured to the love seat opposite and both Russian and German spies took your cue to sit and Gaby showed the photo of your wedding and you both smiled reminiscently, your hands rubbing Isaac’s back.

“This says 1953 in Italy,” Gaby smirked, “which can only mean one thing.”

Isaac giggled, twisting his father’s hold so his little back pressed to Napoleon’s chest and looked up at you with bright blue eyes, “tell them, Mummy, tell them how you met Daddy!” Isaac bounced happily and the pure joy in his features couldn’t halt the smiles on your faces.

You hummed amusedly, “I was planning on it, sweetheart.” You squeezed his pink cheeks gently, making kissing noises at him as you purse your lips comically and couldn’t help the helpless giggle as Isaac tried to laugh between his squished lips, batting your hand away teasingly before you turned back to the spies and launched into your story:

“My father was tasked with finding and capturing Napoleon when he was spotted in Salerno around early 1950. He had evaded capture and left no traces behind as to his whereabouts. We had gotten intel that he was ‘acquiring’ rare antiquities from a prolific museum and he’d be sticking around for a while.” Your gaze turned to a grinning Napoleon who shrugged unashamedly, “I had barely turned eighteen before I was recruited to the CIA with my father’s recommendation and this was to be considered a training mission.” You rolled your eyes at how flippant they had been considering your father’s reputation within the agency, “we were at a soirée at some millionaire’s villa. We had been tipped off that there might be an attempt so I was guarding the safe while my father kept an eye upstairs. I caught Napoleon mid safe-crack and the way he looked at me- was so arrogant and so confident that he would get away, I was actually impressed. I was also surprised to find he was younger than I thought.”

“I was only twenty-one at the time, I wouldn’t be so confident against you, now.” Napoleon shared, chuckling at his youthful choices. “But this beautiful woman was always two steps ahead of me,” Napoleon brushed his fingers along your arm, adjusting Isaac in his lap so he was more comfortable and your son curled into his father’s chest, eyes sliding closed as he listened to his father’s soothing voice, “she’s the only woman to reject my advances.”

“Is not so hard to believe.” Illya commented in all seriousness and you snorted at Napoleon’s offended expression.

“Wait, so you were twenty-one in 1950?” Gaby leaned forward in her seat and the three adults caught onto her intent.

“Cowboy lied on enlistment form.” Illya answered, looking unperturbed but his eyes sparkled with intrigue.

It really was quite the story, so far.

“I was actually born in 1929. I was sixteen when I joined the war effort, I believed it was my chance to do my part for my country but also to see the world. My family wasn’t at all financially stable but served their country in one form or another and I wasn’t going to let my chance slide.”

Illya and Gaby nodded, finding a newfound respect for Napoleon.

Your husband touched your arm for you to continue, cuddling his sleepy son closer, “and for a teenage recruit whose training mission was to capture the elusive and charming Napoleon Solo, I was a bit too preoccupied with proving to my father that I had what it took, rather than forgetting my mission to admire a pretty face with pink cheeks.” You answered, grinning at Napoleon who shook his head amusedly at your teasing.

“Then how did he get away? That’s kind of Solo’s whole thing- being able to charm his way out of anything.” The German mechanic mused and your shoulders shook with a silent chuckle. 

“It’s all rather simple, really.” You said, looking deep into your husband’s eyes, “I let him.”

“You let a world-renowned burglar go? What did he do to deserve freedom? Perform ballet routine?” Illya asked, incredulous.

“Oh, just the usual.” You answered, gesturing nonchalantly, “he tried to seduce me, flirt, charm me, even tried to appeal to my humanity by acting genuine and created some sob story that would have worked on some impressionable woman three times my age. Not me, though. When he realised that his good looks and wit weren’t going to save him, he simply gave up on the safe and cut a deal.” You grinned, nudging Napoleon who chuckled and nodded, “he wouldn’t attempt to come back to the villa, if he could have the ring in the glass case, I was so conveniently next to.”

“You obviously let him.” Gaby answered, dark eyes sparkling.

“No, actually. I was still determined to bring him in,” now Illya was leaning forward, interested in your story as Gaby pouted, “it was only when he became sincerely genuine, did I think twice. He wasn’t acting anymore and I saw the real Napoleon and that was when I gave him the ring. It was inconsequential compared to the catastrophe that could have happened.” 

“And the ring?”

“It was actually a piece meant for the Salerno museum, it was a part of a necklace and earring set but our client found that he cared little for the artifact and more for his own possessions. That and the millions of dollars in gold bullion, stocks, bonds and deeds along with the priceless jewels that he had in his safe.” You explained, waving your hand lamely.

“It would have been the honey pot but I didn’t want to risk getting caught, with my downfall being my own arrogance, but I wasn’t going to leave empty-handed.” Napoleon took your hand, his thumb running along the back of your hand.

“And the ring? Did you sell it?” Illya asked.

“Oh no, I kept a hold of that little gem for three years after that, until I gave it up.”

“What? Gave it up? To who?” Gaby asked, eyes wide.

“We’ll get to that.” Napoleon reassured, “but I went for the ring and keep in mind, she’s watching me the whole time. So I’ve taken the ring from the display case and before making my getaway, I kissed her.” Now, it was your turn to shake your head, “how I managed to get away without getting thoroughly beaten is beyond me.”

“That was because the thief I was tasked to bring in had just stolen my first kiss in the basement of some tycoon’s villa after being caught trying to steal millions, to say I was shocked would be an understatement.”

“That would do it.” Napoleon leaned back against the sofa, his arm stretching along the back and his fingers ran through your hair. “I couldn’t help myself. You were just so beautiful; I’d have regretted it if I hadn’t.”

You sighed, “I’m letting you have that, on account of your compliments, otherwise you’d be in trouble.” 

“I know, darling.” Napoleon winked at you and you couldn’t help the bashful reaction as you looked down almost timidly and he turned to his teammates, “I wanted to see her again, so for the next year, I was a little reckless with my larceny and I would leave a calling card just for her.”

“He’d leave little clues in the cards and when my father and I visited a particular crime scene, fitting the M.O of Napoleon, I didn’t find a card. That was when knew I had enough to start piecing together the clues.”

“What was in the cards?” Gaby asked, a small smile curling her lips.

“The address of where I was staying at the time and instructions for her to come alone.” Napoleon answered, taking your hand and lacing your fingers together.

“So, I followed his instructions and met him at his hotel room and he confessed that he’d fallen in love with me.” 

“And you felt the same.” Illya surmised.

“Actually, no. Y/N called me insane and delusional for thinking I could fall in love with someone I met only once and then socked me for stealing her first kiss.”

There was silence among Napoleon’s teammates until they erupted with an uproar of laughter. Gaby grabbed onto Illya as she rocked back into the chair, giggling helplessly as Illya chuckled. Isaac stirred in his father’s arms but quietened down, slipping back into his deep slumber. He’d fallen asleep halfway through his story and you couldn’t help but smile at your son.

“S-she punched you a year after that kiss!” Gaby cackled, “she remembered!” 

“If I remember it now, I certainly remembered it then.” You joked with Gaby, a crooked grin overtaking your amused expression, “do you remember your promise to me?” You asked Napoleon, squeezing his hand gently, hearing Illya’s and Gaby’s amusement slowly quieten as they listened to Napoleon.

Napoleon watched you, a sparkle in his blue eyes, “how could I forget? I promised that I would do my best to change your opinion of me, no matter what the cost.” 

You nodded warmly, resting your head on his shoulder, “and that is what happened,” you addressed Illya and Gaby, “while my father was trying to figure out where Napoleon would strike next, I was being courted by him, lured to the most romantic places of Salerno.” Your voice took a soft, gentle tone as you remembered your times together, “candlelit picnics on a deserted beach during nightfall, strolls through the hills and ruins of the old buildings before visiting the villages to enjoy a quiet meal together. And then it happened.”

“What happened?” Both Gaby and Illya asked, eyes sparkling.

“May I?” Napoleon asked, touching your hand gently and you nodded. 

“The floor is yours, my love.” You replied softly and he grinned, taking your hand and delivering a sweet kiss to the back of it before looking toward his fellow spies.

“Well. .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me!! I decided to make this a three chapter story! i'm sorry I couldn't help myself, the urge for a cliffhanger was too much! 
> 
> But also, I didn't want to rush the ending and I wanted to make this as sweet and romantic as possible and something you all will enjoy so please don't be mad at me!!
> 
> The next part will feature just how everything went down!
> 
> Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos, you guys are awesome and those that came from my Tumblr, you're just so amazing, thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI IM BACK OMG HI IM NOT DEAD! I hope all of you are staying safe and social distancing throughout this trying time, I hope the end to this story lifts your spirits and helps you forget the world around us just for a few minutes. If you are an essential worker, thank you for all that you're doing for us and for those with COVID-19. You are the heroes of this pandemic and we would be lost without all of you. Thank you for the bottom of my heart. 
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> Stay safe, social distance and together we'll beat this.
> 
> Much love xx

“I had seen Y/N around Salerno, this was before the villa. I'd seen her with her father at the crime scenes I’d left behind. I knew who she was and why she was there, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to know more about her, I _ needed _to know more about her.” Napoleon’s fingers lightly caressed the soft curls on Isaac’s head, “I thought I could impress her with my charm and we all know how that turned out.” Napoleon ran his free hand along his jaw, causing his two friends to snicker.

“But in the end, you managed to win me over.” You murmured, before letting out a giggle, “although we did have our fair share of obstacles.” You placed your free hand on his arm, your shoulders shaking in mirth.

Napoleon took a moment before his face scrunched, “oh, God, I remember!” He groaned, running his hand over his face.

“What? What happened?” Gaby asked and Napoleon groaned even louder.

“I will never forget this for as long as I live!” You fell against Napoleon, giggling helplessly as he looked on miserably, curling Isaac closer as if to hide away his embarrassment.

Napoleon huffed a breath before looking at Gaby and Illya, “so, what happened was. .”

(..)

_ Napoleon held your hand as you walked down the pebbled path of Salerno’s beautiful hillside, admiring the villages above. _

_ You both had just enjoyed a lovely meal prepared by an elderly woman that Napoleon knew. Apparently the woman had known him for a lot longer and he’d been to Salerno before when he’d met her and she treated him as if he were her grandson. She would regale you with her fondest memories of him when he’d first come to Salerno and she would remark how much of a troublemaker he was and that you were a saint to wait around for him. _

_ Suffice to say, you adored her. _

_ You chuckled at a small joke he reiterated to you as you continued to walk before he stopped, slowly coming in front of you to cut you off. _

_ “I want to show you something.” Napoleon said, pressing a gentle peck to the back of your hand, his deep blue eyes darting across your face and back to the scenery. _

_ “What is it?” You ask, looking up and down his person for any indication of his surprise but couldn’t find anything of significance or that stood out to you. _

_ “Come.” Taking your hand once again, he leads you through the winding path until you come to a cliff, overlooking the whole of Salerno, the colourful buildings, the locals bustling about their everyday lives and the azure water reflecting against the beautiful sun, “so, what do you think?” _

_ “Oh, Napoleon. . it’s absolutely gorgeous!” You whispered, in awe of the view and took a few steps closer to the edge to gain a better vantage. _

_ “I knew you’d appreciate it.” Napoleon mused, sounding smug and you chuckled, turning to put him in his place when you noticed he was on bended knee, a small jewelry box in his palm, the crimson velvet brilliant against the backdrop of his palm, “but I bet you didn’t see this coming, Miss. CIA-in-training.” _

_ Your heart stuttered to a stop, all quips that you had thought of were quickly replaced with shock as you stared down at Napoleon, “w-what. .” you murmur more to yourself than to him and you look into his eyes, full of nothing but love and adoration as he stared up at you. Your eyes swam and you sniffled, “Napoleon, if this is a joke- I swear I will throw you off this cliff.” Napoleon shook his head, a chuckle bobbing his Adam's apple. _

_ “It’s not a joke,” Napoleon vowed, using his other hand to perch over the top of the box, tears clinging to his eyes as he spoke, “Y/N, the last three years of my life have been the most dangerous I’ve ever experienced. . but I wouldn’t change them. Falling in love with you is probably the only thing I’m proud of in my life and I wouldn’t change it for anything. Even though you rejected me at first, and punched me in the face for kissing you.” _

_ “It was my first kiss. You got what you deserved.” You laughed wetly, sniffling as you tried to hold the tears back, smiling down at the man you’d come to adore. _

_ “That I did,” Napoleon agreed, “you’ve made me so happy and whether I deserve it or not, it’s true. I’m guilty as charged.” You opened your mouth to protest but he quietened you down as his fingers flexed around the ring box, “will you make me the happiest man in the world,” he slowly opened the box and nestled in the velvet cushion was the ring you’d let him take in exchange for his freedom, the beautiful museum piece you had been admiring before you’d caught him, “and sentence me for life?” _

_ The dam broke and the tears you had been attempting to hold back flooded down your face as you held out your hand, taking a few calming breaths before managing to sob out, “it would be my honour to lock you away.” _

_ Napoleon took your outstretched hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it before gently slipping the ring on the appropriate digit and stood up, taking you in his arms, “I love you so much!” Napoleon whispered into the space of your neck. _

_ You sniffled, your fingers running through his hair, “I love you too.” _

_ “What the hell?! Y/N!” Your father’s voice boomed across the field, freezing both you and Napoleon in place. _

_ “Oh shit.” Napoleon breathed against your neck. _

(..)

Napoleon’s head rested against Isaac’s, hiding his flaming cheeks as he finished retelling his botched proposal to you while you and Gaby cackled and Illya snickered silently. "He ruined my carefully-thought out proposal and he nearly murdered me."

"He _ was _ close to tossing you off the cliff." You agreed, laughing gently as you remembered the event with fondness, "he didn’t exactly calm down when we explained the situation. If anything it only made him more irate.”

“Yes, I distinctly remember him reaching for my shirt to push me _ off the cliff _, darling.” Napoleon snipped, his eyes half hidden by your son’s dark curls snapped to you.

“But it was once he saw that it wasn't an act for you to escape, what happened?" You teased, enjoying his misery.

“He let me go.” Napoleon mumbled sulkily, knowing his near death experience was not just about his father-in-law’s righteous anger.

“Your father agreed? But he was hunting down Napoleon, how would he agree to his daughter marrying an antiquities thief?" Gaby asked, fully engrossed in the story.

“I’m a very headstrong person, if you can’t tell. When I want something, I’d move Heaven and Hell to obtain it. I wanted Napoleon. My father knew that he’d have more than a headache on his hands if he tried to pull us apart.” You smiled at your husband whose annoyance faded for a moment and he blessed you with a sweet smile.

“What happened after?” Illya smirked and your husband’s mood shifted back to petulance. Napoleon grumbled incoherently, sinking deeper into the loveseat. 

“Can’t you tell what happened next?!” Napoleon griped, pointing between you and himself with petulant exasperation.

“Obviously, not without fight.” Illya teased, shoulders shaking as Napoleon glared at him with the heat of a thousand fiery suns and you wondered how Illya still sat where he was without being melted by your husband's heated gaze.

“So,” Gaby piped up and you turned your attention to her, “the ring that Napoleon bartered for his freedom, is the same one he used to propose to you?”

You nodded quietly, smiling as you lifted your hand where the ring rested on your finger, still shining as bright as it did when you first saw the beautiful piece, “I had always wondered what he'd done with it after that day. It was only when he proposed that I finally realised that he was saving it. For me."

“And he couldn’t hate me after I gave him a grandson.” Napoleon shrugged, not missing the glare you pinned him with and he actually flinched _ away from you _, taking Isaac with him, tightening his hold on his son.

“Who was in the hospital for nineteen hours of labour, again? Who was suffering intense contractions in all that time? Who had to _ push a tiny human out of their body? You _gave my father his grandson?” You asked, eyes never leaving his and Napoleon had the decency to look sheepish.

“You know what I meant, my love.” Napoleon answered meekly, a vast change from his usual confident persona, “you wouldn’t hit a man with his son in his arms, would you?”

“We should go before we become witnesses to a murder.” Gaby said, standing with Illya as he took the file containing the real wife of their target. 

“It was pleasure to meet you.” Illya nodded toward you and you smiled sweetly, bowing your head. Illya smiled before turning to Cowboy, “you don’t deserve her.” 

“That I do know.” Napoleon grinned, smiling up at Illya, “maybe now you’ll get off my back.”

“Not likely.” Illya turned and walked to the door as Gaby bent down to give you a soft hug.

“It was lovely to meet the better half of Napoleon Solo.” Gaby whispered in your ear, a chuckle erupting from deep within your belly.

“And it was lovely to meet the better half of Illya Kuryakin.” Gaby pulled back, cheeks flaming as you winked at her knowingly and Napoleon covered his mouth with his hand covertly, Isaac’s head bobbing against his father’s chest from the stifled laughter.

After the pair left, Napoleon tucked your son into bed and came to stand behind you as you both looked out to the window, overseeing the beauty of Turkey, his chin resting in the curve of your shoulder and neck. You stretched your head to make room for him, sighing contently.

His hands slowly came around to rest on your pregnant belly, smiling at the feeling of his second child growing within you before his deep voice rumbled in your ear, _ “non sei la mia cassaforte o la chiave,” _ he spoke his vows in perfect Italian as he had on your wedding day and your eyes welled with tears, _ “sei ciò che proteggo nella mia cassaforte, la chiave del mio cuore." _

the welling tears slipped down your cheeks as he spoke, his deep blue eyes meeting yours in the window, _ “il mio prezioso oggetto d'antiquariato, la mia gemma inestimabile.” _ His hand left your belly before raising higher to take your chin and tilting your head to face him and you sniffled, _ “il mio amore.” _ His face moved closer, _ “mia moglie.” _He whispered the last words against your lips before kissing you. 

Inhaling sharply, your lips moved beneath his, responding to his kiss ardently. Your hand rested against his cheek, tracing his sharp jaw with your fingertips. He chuckled against your lips, pulling back slowly and turned you to face him. His large hands framed your face and he dashed your tears away with his thumbs. 

"I love you, Napoleon.” You whispered, your fingers playing with the curls neatly styled at the back of his head.

“As I love you.” Napoleon murmured, capturing your lips once more.

_ “What a sap.” _ Illya’s voice crackled through the speaker, full of mirth.

“Piss off!” Napoleon grumbled against your lips before his eyes snapped open to see your unimpressed gaze staring back at you. “Oh, shit.”


End file.
